


Grand Celebrations Aren't Their Thing

by Evedawalrus



Series: Minimegs Week 2019 [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, I can't wait to see what everyone makes for this week aaaaaa, M/M, Minimegs Week, Smooching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 02:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20220247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evedawalrus/pseuds/Evedawalrus
Summary: It's Minimus and Megatron's anniversary!





	Grand Celebrations Aren't Their Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for Day 1 of Minimegs Week, with the prompt "Holidays/Family." An anniversary is a kind of holiday, right?

Minimus didn’t even realize it until halfway through the day. They were both off-shift, oddly enough—their schedules barely ever aligned like this. He and Megatron were sitting next to each other in their habsuite, Minimus doing some simple file organization while Megatron worked on a piece of poetry. 

Then, Minimus had the thought to check the date. “Oh.”

Megatron looked up and gave a questioning hum. Minimus set down his datapad and shifted, turning halfway towards him. “It’s our anniversary.”

Megatron’s optics went wide. “Oh. It is.”

“Do you suppose we should do something for the occasion?” Minimus moved a bit closer so their thighs were touching. 

Megatron thought for a moment, before putting away his poetry into his subspace and picking up Minimus. Minimus, who had long grown used to being handled, settled into his husband’s lap. “I’m content staying here and spending the rest of the day with you,” Megatron smiled down at his smaller partner. 

Minimus looked away to hide a blush, but still laid his head on Megatron’s chest. They stayed like that for a while, content in their embrace. 

Minimus took a deep breath. “We’re… you’re  _ really  _ my conjunx.” He put a hand on Megatron’s autobrand, thinking on everything that had lead to this moment. Despite the year that had passed, he could still remember their ceremony well.

The Ritus had been initiated by Megatron, but Minimus had chosen to do the next act: the Act of Disclosure. He had revealed his true alt mode to Megatron in private, and though his spark had trembled with anxiety building up to it, Megatron had only smiled and asked if he could pet him behind the ears. He had also done the Act of Profference, gifting his meager collection of his own poetry to Megatron. That had also gone well—Megatron had noted that while he did have some critiques if Minimus was looking for them, he was touched by the trust displayed by the gesture, and had then kissed Minimus silly to show just how much he appreciated it. 

The final act was the one that made him the most nervous. Megatron had promised to prove his devotion to Minimus in a demonstration of love, but Minimus feared that such a demonstration could possibly involve risks to his health. He didn’t want Megatron to put himself in danger for his sake…

He had been rather surprised when he was invited to, as the message put it, a social gathering in the Observatory. When he had arrived, he was enthusiastically greeted by a large number of the crew, who quickly informed him that this was an “appreciation event”—one, they said, that was entirely devoted to  _ him. _ Crew members kept coming up to him and telling him that they liked how he was so meticulous, that he was so hardworking, that he showed how much he cared about all of them by keeping them safe. Minimus stuttered out thank-yous, feeling more and more flustered by the minute. No one snickered at him behind his back. No one directed insults at him, or made fun of his height. No one even pointed out how red his cheeks undoubtedly were. Minimus wasn’t sure how to handle it. His spark felt like it was about to burst, and the fact that nothing had blown up or been broken made him wonder if he was really on the  _ Lost Light _ . 

Megatron was there by the drinks when he waded out of the crowd to catch his breath. They locked optics, and Minimus immediately knew who had orchestrated this whole event. 

Megatron got down on one knee to hold Minimus’s hand. “Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” 

And just like that, it was too much. Minimus started to cry. 

Megatron’s optics flared with alarm. “Minimus—what’s wrong? Did someone say something? How can I help?”

Minimus only lifted the hand Megatron had placed in his and guided it to his cheek. “Y-you have. You have.” The smile he mustered up was a wobbly one, but it was enough to make Megatron go weak in the knees. 

“Oh, Minimus,” Megatron whispered before kissing him tenderly. 

In the privacy of their habsuite afterwards, they had bared their sparks to each other. Megatron was not religious by any means, but in the light of Minimus’s spark, he could swear he had been blessed. 

Back in the present, Megatron found he still felt that way. Part of him still remained awestruck that such a wonderful mech had chosen to live out his life with someone like him. 

“I love you.” He gently tugged his conjunx’s facial insignia, delighted at how his words made the minibot’s cheeks color. 

Minimus swatted his hand away, but the way his optics shone betrayed his good humor. “I love you too, you tease.” 

“A tease, am I?” Megatron grinned, and then lifted Minimus to his optic level. “And would you call this teasing?” 

With that, he pulled Minimus into a rather passionate kiss. 

When they separated, Minimus was smiling—and a bit out of breath. “No, I suppose I would not. ...You may have to ask me again, of course. For clarity’s sake.” 

“Well,” Megatron purred. “We  _ do _ have all afternoon…” 


End file.
